The Terrace

28 May 2011

Málaga, España

I still haven’t changed, showered – done anything useful – and I’m still laughing about the near-cringe coincidence of just finding out Olivia’s name, atop of this terrace I’ve just discovered sitting proudly on the hostel. It’s here that a couple of other of last night’s comrades and I relax between the bright, suitably hospital-white walls, given the way we’re all in. There’s Kaister from Boston, failing to pretend to be interested in the book that M.C. from Quebec is reading, and a Brazilian who seems to be endlessly rolling cigarettes as long as his beard.

‘Costa del Sol’ white? For the moment, it feels a hospital white.

Yes, life is tough, with my only concern that I didn’t speak enough French back in Australia and my legs are getting really, really warm under my jeans. We’re all featuring in the perfect picture of the modern holiday: pure mindless fun, followed by pure mindless recovery. It puts you in a state of ecstasy because I’m laughing at some really not-so-funny things, like how this guy announces that he’s “fallen in love” with the Quebecer after she’s left, and the random long clump of hair we found on the tiles of the roof, along with our suggestions of outrageous scenarios in which the hair could have gotten there. In fact, it’s all outrageous.

View from the dorm balcony.

I spend the rest of the daylight on the teak terrace, which means I’m able to wear my previously underused sunglasses all the way until 9pm.

Tonight turns out to be the night of a grand final, Barcelona vs. Manchester United for the main European cup, so it’s obviously a UK vs. Spain affair, but I didn’t need someone to tell me something like this was going on; the town is silent and there’s a faint mumble of the TV about, from atop the place that seemed only worthwhile for the bright daytime.

Stunning.

Unfortunately I couldn’t go to the sports bar with the gang because of some tricky stuff with my next place, but being up here makes me feel like I’m not missing out on anything. Then, from the silence, cheers from all round echo up through the narrow streets and into the open air, and the birds fly off the peaks of the buildings; so that’s the first goal for Barcelona. There’s more cries and cheers as the game goes on, and Spain’s rooftops act as the screen, so it’s a unique even, although the game itself doesn’t interest me at all.

I started the day here, so I may as well finish it here too. It was once so bright you could barely keep your eyes open, but now the terrace is spot lit by white light from the cubes and red specks from the cigarettes, and there’s some truly shite music playing that was made in’a two hour long session, all by me’. His friend accompanies it nicely with his argument that humans have evolved to smoke weed because we have receptors in our brain for it. Ah huh.’Back in Amstersam my friend and I just started DJing in our apartment all night. Eventually people turned up, so we started to decorate the place that looks like “holy shit!” when you’re on mushrooms. We were making good money, man. Good money.’ All out of a one bedroom apartment, I discover. Ah huh.

There’s a couple of others who are a thankfully a bit more insightful. There’s an American who has lived for two years in Sweden, and I wonder aloud what his story is with a Bavarian who bears a pp.’There are so many people. You can’t – you shouldn’t – think about them all. You’re only young, but just imagine how many there’ll be after a few years of it. I can’t think about them all because it’s just too much. Sure, when I’m actually with them, but, afterwards…’ He’s probably right, because when I look back just on today there’s way more people than I could reasonably write down, each with accompanying little stories. Will I ever remember them? Ah, you see, the Bavarian is definitely right, and he gives a firm handshake to confirm it.

I don’t even know what I’m doing up here anymore as I’m not talking to anyone, have to check out early and the only people speaking are two sadly unfit North Americans nerding out about whether the hostel uses solar panels or not.

June 27th, 2011 11:06pm